


The Day's Beginning

by Siberian



Series: A Very Sterek Summer 2020 [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (sort of), A Very Sterek Summer Fest 2020, Getting Together, M/M, Pre-Slash, Song Lyrics, Song fic, Violence, When in Doubt-Contact Author for Full List of Warnings, disturbing imagery, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:02:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29876046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siberian/pseuds/Siberian
Summary: The beach is beautiful, pristine and peaceful. It's perfect. The only thing is, he doesn't understand why there's no one in sight. Why is he completely alone?
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: A Very Sterek Summer 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037619
Kudos: 1





	The Day's Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Written for “A Very Sterek Summer - Day 4: Summer Songs” on Tumblr
> 
> This contains some spoilers up until the end of the series. They are mild but might give something away. If you don't know about Malia's background, that's a big one. The story itself is pre-slash. By way of warnings, this one is mild. There is a sequence where torture is mentioned and slightly touched on. Beyond that, pretty much just a sense of foreboding. The title used for this story is included in one of the songs. All of the songs are in Italics. I've credited each of them at the bottom of the chapter in which they're featured. It was done this way to maintain an element of surprise. I've also included a Lyric video link for each song for reference. If the link goes dead, my apologies as YouTube can be difficult.
> 
> Come join me on [Tumblr](https://siberianthewriter.tumblr.com)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The horizon seemed to stretch onward for eternity. All that he could see was the light blue of the sky meeting the deep blue of the ocean. As his gaze slid closer toward the shore, he could see the froth of white foam capping the waves. The breadth of their adornment got wider until the waves gently crashed into the sand. A moment later the water would retreat, leaving behind a flat plane of beige sand, giving the illusion of being worn smooth like river rocks. It would take very little to dispel that notion. A simple walk along the shore would leave behind an imprint. It would leave a mark that would linger. The impression in the sand would tell anyone who saw it that they weren’t the only one in the world.  
  
His eyebrows pinched together at the direction of his thoughts. They didn’t make any sense. With a few blinks, he tore his gaze away from the waves to look around. To his left the beach stretched onward. There was no sign of civilization. On his right it was more of the same. Turning a little, he looked behind him at the tree line a few feet away. The only sign of people was nearby. Directly in front of him was a fire pit. At the moment it wasn’t lit but there was kindling for a fire. On each of his sides was a single low bench. Including the one he was sitting on it brought the total to three. They were flat as though sanded down and were wide enough to seat three adults. He could tell they’d been crudely constructed from tree trunks. There was nothing or no one else around.  
  
That seemed a little strange. Why didn’t he have any supplies? The only thing he was wearing was swim trunks. It didn’t make sense. He should have some shoes nearby or maybe a towel. At the very least, he should have a shirt of some kind. As soon as the thoughts emerged, they slipped away. There was probably a good reason for it anyway. Instead of worrying about it, he looked back toward the waves. The horizon had a lulling quality. As the minutes ticked past he started to feel a little sleepy.  
  
Eventually his eyes softly closed, prompting him to fight to keep them open. It was only when he stared to lean forward slightly that he slipped from the bench. The movement was a little awkward. He didn’t try to get up just slid down onto the ground. There was sand clinging to his skin immediately. Although it could easily be annoying, its appearance didn’t garner more than a brief thought. Instead he turned slightly to rest against the bench. The curl of his arms provided a cushion for his head. It was surprisingly comfortable. With the warm breeze sliding over his back and the gentle sound of the waves in his ears he fell asleep.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The waves crashing into the shore sparkled in the sunlight. It was beautiful. He sat there motionless for a long time, simply looking toward the horizon. There was a warm wind sliding along his skin. It kicked up the sand, creating small flurries that floated along the shoreline. He followed it with his gaze until it broke apart. The rhythm of the waves caught his eyes again. It was hypnotic. Suddenly he felt tired. With a shake of his head, he tried to dispel the feeling. He didn’t want to sleep now. Wanting something to occupy his mind he looked around. There was a fire pit in front of him and two roughly crafted benches at each of his sides. That was it. He turned slightly to look over his shoulder. A few feet away there was a thick copse of trees.  
  
When he faced forward again he paused. All of this felt familiar he just wasn’t sure why. Climbing to his feet, he turned to his right. There was nothing except a long stretch of beach. When he turned to his left it was the same. “Hello?!” The shout traveled but there was no response. When he spoke again, the words were in a low tone. They’d been said more to himself than truly for the benefit of someone else. “Is anyone here?” As he’d expected there was no response. Deciding to go left for no real reason, he started to walk down along the beach. The sand under his feet was warm but not actually hot. Still, after awhile he moved closer to the shoreline. It was far more comfortable to walk on the wet sand.  
  
As he walked, with the exception of a few large rocks, the scenery didn’t change. The fatigue he’d been feeling earlier returned as well. It got so bad that he found himself swaying on his feet. He pushed through it. Despite his efforts, it wasn’t long until his eyelids started to droop. When he almost fell into the water, he walked unsteadily further inland. As soon as he’d gotten a safe distance away he fell hard onto his backside.  
  
He hadn’t wanted to stop but thought it was a good idea. The last thing he wanted was to fall, hit his head and drown in the ocean. For a long time he sat there trying to shake off his sleepiness. Finally, he gave up. There was a pull on his eyelids that was too strong to resist. He lay down on his back with a sigh. The sand quickly coated his exposed skin but he couldn’t be spared enough energy to care. Above him the sky was a bright blue dotted with white fluffy clouds. The thought that it reminded him of a storybook was the last one he had before falling asleep.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
In his direct line of sight was the ocean. It was beautiful, the waves an Azure blue. The water looked refreshing. A swim sounded nice. Maybe he’d do that later. For now, he just wanted to sit here for a little while. Looking down he took in the unlit fire pit. To his right was a low wooden bench. On his left it was the same. He reached down to run his fingers over the wood grain of the bench he was sitting on. A little pinch formed between his eyebrows. It occurred to him suddenly that he didn’t remember how he’d gotten here. When he got to his feet, he looked to his right only to see a seemingly never-ending stretch of beach. Turning to his left he discovered the same thing. At his back was a wall of trees. He didn’t see any sign of people beyond his little encampment.  
  
Feeling somewhat lost on what to do, his gaze looked back toward the previously empty ocean. There was nothing there. This didn’t make any sense. His mind raced as he stood there looking blankly at the gently crashing waves. “Derek? Are you alright there, big guy?” With a full bodied jerk, he looked to his right. Standing there with a concerned expression and a slightly raised eyebrow was Stiles. He moved forward without thinking until they were toe to toe. “Where did you come from?” The expression on Stiles face now had a mild hint of surprise. “From the jeep.” There was a small pause before the other man continued. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” He honestly didn’t know. For some reason he felt disoriented. “Where’s the rest of the pack?”  
  
A thumb was thrown over Stiles’ shoulder in a careless gesture. “Back there. They’ll be here shortly. I’m going to let the pack members with super strength handle most of the supplies.” He was given a wan smile before the other man walked past his location. “This is a great spot. I didn’t know we’d have a fire pit. I would have brought stuff for S’mores.” The ease in Stiles put him at ease automatically. Now that he wasn’t alone he didn’t feel so on edge. Even as he resettled onto the bench, the other man withdrew a bottle from the bag he was carrying. It was opened before being squeezed. An annoying squelching sound filled the air. The white substance the bottle contained spattered onto Stiles’ upturned palm.  
  
A second later the bottle was abandoned on the bench. With that done, the white substance was smeared over the other man’s arms. At noticing his observation, Stiles sent him a crooked smile. “I cook like a lobster in the sun.” The bottle was picked up long enough to be wiggled. “Did you want some sunscreen? I’ve got some left in here.” He shook his head easily. That had him earning a shrug. “Suit yourself. If you change your mind, it’ll be in this beach bag.” The bag in question was an oversized tote. It was a light tan in color with a print of a beach scene. In true annoying fashion, the image of a pink flamingo was slightly cartoonish. On the shoreline, back dropped by light blue waves, the flamingo stood under a multi-colored umbrella.  
  
It only stood on one leg on a neon green towel and a pair of thick black sunglasses covered its eyes. Even as he watched Stiles withdrew a blue beach towel covered in white waves. With it in hand, the other man stood up to fold it over a few times. When it was replaced Stiles retook his seat on the towel. Out of nowhere, he started to feel tired. He shook his head as his eyes started to close. A moment later his hand flew up trying to hide a yawn. “If you want to doze off, go for it. I won’t be offended.” Instead of encouraging that line of thought, he looked back in the direction Stiles had come from. “The pack should be here by now.”  
  
When he looked to the other man again, there was a small amount of amusement in his expression. “They may be awhile. We brought a lot of stuff. It probably wouldn’t take much for us to open a surf shop." He tried to climb to his feet. The motion wasn’t successful in the slightest. Instead of getting on his feet, he ended up kneeling in the sand in front of the bench. “I should…I should help them.” When he got a response from Stiles it was unconcerned. The fact that he couldn’t stand didn’t seem to raise any red flags either. There was a part of him that thought it should. “They’re fine. I can tell you’re tired, Derek. Why don’t you get some rest?” He looked in the other man’s direction when he heard a rustling noise.  
  
It turned out that Stiles was once again digging into the tote. When his hand reemerged with another towel, Stiles got to his feet to move closer. He only came to a stop when he was towering over his slumped form. He watched as the other man leaned down and placed the towel on the bench near his head. “Here. Now you have an impromptu pillow.” Without comment, he slid over enough to rest his head on the towel. Now that he was situated the other man returned to his seat. He kept his blurry gaze on Stiles as he started to drift off. “It’s okay. I’m here. Get some rest.” At the gentle prompting, he found himself unable to resist the request.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
He stared straight ahead in a daze. The slowly rolling waves filled his line of sight. To his left there was a low murmuring. When he turned in that direction, he found Stiles sitting on a bench. There was a pair of sunglasses in his hand and he was leaning practically sideways digging into a deep blue beach bag. That didn’t seem right for some reason. He looked a little more closely at the tote, taking in the slightly bent image of Captain America. The focus he had on it was broken when Stiles let out a crow of victory. In the hand that had previously been hidden was a book. He couldn’t see the title but it looked slightly beat up with frequent handling.  
  
The sunglasses in Stiles’ hands were quickly placed on his head. A moment later the book was held in between both hands and Stiles happily opened it to an unmarked section. “Stiles?” At hearing his voice the other man looked in his direction. “Yeah?” For a minute he didn’t say anything. He’d spoken without thinking. This place was familiar but it wasn’t. If he said that though, Stiles would be worried. He looked around as something else got his attention. “Where is the pack?” Looking unconcerned, the other man looked back down to his book. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.” That felt familiar too. “Didn’t you say that already?” At the question, Stiles sent him a squinted look. “Yeah, when I first got here. Are you alright?”  
  
Feeling foolish, he grimaced a little. “I’m fine. I just thought they’d be here by now.” That earned him an analyzing hum before the other man continued in a light tone. “It wasn’t that long ago. They’re fine.” With that Stiles returned to his book. He looked around now that the conversation had died off. There was no one else around. It was a little startling. They must be out in the middle of nowhere for it to be this secluded. In front of him was an unlit fire pit. He thought about lighting it just for something to do. The breeze picked that minute to slide over his skin. It was cool enough to be comfortably but too warm to justify a fire. A small laugh had him looking in the other man’s direction. That was enough to have Stiles meeting his gaze.  
  
The book was wiggled in his direction. “Have you ever read this before?” He tried to see the title but it was obscured by Stiles’ long fingers. For some reason, not being able to see it made him feel uncomfortable. Instead of letting Stiles in on his dilemma, he decided to lie in a fashion. “No, I haven’t.” The book was lowered which oddly left him feeling slightly better. “It’s really funny. You should check it out sometime.” He nodded without comment. When the book was set down, the other man leaned forward on the bench and looked at him with pointed focus. It made him a little nervous. “What?” There was now a frown emerging on Stiles’ face. “You look tired.”  
  
Suddenly he felt exhausted. He didn’t understand why he felt that way. Until it had been brought up, he’d felt fine. “Why don’t you try to get some rest?” There was a part of him that wanted to protest. He felt like a little kid all of a sudden who didn’t want to go to bed. At the same time, the rest of the pack still hadn’t arrived. It was better to stay alert until they were all together. “No, that’s okay.” Although he looked like he wanted to argue, the other man shrugged before letting the subject drop. He looked away to take in the scenery. There was still no sign of the pack. “Would it bother you if I played some music?” The thought was a little annoying but he shook his head anyway. Hopefully what would emerge from Stiles’ cell phone speaker wouldn’t be too annoying.  
  
When the landscape started to blur, he tipped his head down and shook his head once roughly. The slow blink he took only seemed to help a little. There was a sound that seemed out of place. His head shot up only for him to pause in shock. In the other man’s lap was a guitar. It rested against Stiles’ chest with an ease that spoke of familiarity. What was almost stranger than the sight of it was that he didn’t remember seeing it earlier. At the moment the other man was tuning it with expertise. Feeling dumbfound, he looked at Stiles in mild shock. “Stiles? What…what are you…?” The badly formed words were followed up with him motioning toward the guitar with his hand.  
  
At the question, the other man paused with a slightly surprised expression. “You said you didn’t mind?” That had him frowning severely. “I don’t. I thought you were going to play some music.” Now Stiles wore a frown too. “I am.” The response he needed was still trying to formulate when the other man continued. “I think you need to get some rest, big guy. You’re getting loopy.” There was a pause long enough for Stiles to reach into the tote. A few seconds later something was thrown at this chest. He easily caught the soft unknown item. Looking down at it revealed it was a towel. There was a pink flamingo on it. When he looked back up, he was sent a small smile. “An impromptu pillow.” He grunted slightly but didn’t comment further.  
  
The first strings of a song he didn’t recognize floated through the air. What struck him right away was its melodic quality. There was also something about it that reminded him a little of the waves nearby. He looked back out at the ocean as the music slowly sunk into his mind. About a second later, his head jerked back toward Stiles in surprise. His eyes widened as he watched his pack mate singing. “ _I hope all my days will be lit by your face, I hope all the years will hold tight our promises, I don't want to be old and sleep alone, An empty house is not a home, I don't want to be old and feel afraid_.” The shock he felt at Stiles singing slipped away. It was replaced with wonder at the sound of his voice.  
  
In a slow soft cadence the song floated through the air. He found his exhaustion only increasing as he was fairly lulled to sleep. “ _I don't want to be old and sleep alone, An empty house is not a home, I don't want to be old and feel afraid_.” The entrancing quality of the other man’s voice changed at this point. It held a soft of drifting away quality. " _And if I need anything at all_.” The lyrics faded away to soothing vocalized sounds. “ _Ohh, ahh, ohh_.” Without really thinking about it, he laid down on the bench. The towel was bunched up under his head. He couldn’t stretch out on the flat surface, so he raised his knees to settle into a comfortable half-curled position.  
  
The next words that Stiles sang sounded otherworldly. “ _I need a place that's hidden in the deep, Where lonely angels sing you to your sleep, The modern world is broken_.” The slight pause had his already heavy eyes drooping. His muscles lost all of their remaining tension. At the same time, an absolute peace settled over his mind. “ _I need a place where I can make my bed, A lover's lap where I can lay my head, 'Cause now the room is spinning, The day's beginning_.” As the song faded out, he felt himself slipping away until he knew nothing more.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
There was a warm breeze that slid gently along his shoulders. It had him tipping his head back slightly. He leaned back on his hands, feeling a little languid. This new angled position had a breeze sliding across his chest. The feeling reminded him that he didn’t have a shirt on. “It’s nice out today. I don’t think the weather could be more perfect.” At the comment, he looked to his left to take in Stiles. His sole companion was sitting on one of the benches. Both of his legs were pulled up under his body in a cross-legged posture. There was a pair of sunglasses covering his eyes and a white band of sunscreen lotion on his nose. His face was alight with a wide contented smile.  
  
In his lap was a beaten up book. It was opened slightly; Stiles’ right index finger wedged in-between its pages. Resting on the ground, propped against the bench was a guitar. He didn’t find its presence strange. What did catch his attention was the tote to the other man’s right also on the ground. It was a plain tan bag. For some reason that didn’t seem right. It bothered him enough to speak up. “Stiles? That beach bag…I thought it was blue.” At his observation, Stiles murmured before looking downward. “Hmm, what? No, my beach bag is tan. I’ve been debating letting one of the girls decorate it. I got it for free at a store but I don’t like how bland it is. I’m just worried I might get it back covered in glitter.”  
  
His eyebrows pinched together. The explanation wasn’t enough for some reason he didn’t know. When he looked up to press the issue, the words stalled in his throat at seeing the other man’s shirt. It was a deep blue t-shirt with Captain America’s shield dead center. That was so strange. He could have sworn that Stiles was wearing a dark green shirt. Feeling disoriented all of a sudden, his gaze flicked downward to stare at the sand. “I’m getting tired of reading. Do you mind if I play some music.” He shook his head absentmindedly. “No, that’s fine.” There was some rustling that had him looking up. When the guitar was settled over the other man’s lap he didn’t even blink an eye. It looked normal, like he’d seen Stiles do it a million times. The thought that it shouldn’t feel that way had him annoyed again.  
  
In a swift move, he threw himself gently on the bench. It was too short to lie completely prone. That was alright. He situated himself at the end of the bench. The length of it let him lie down, his knees bent at the end of the bench and his feet able to rest comfortably in the sand. There was a towel a little further up the bench. He reached up to pull it closer and shoved it under his head. The sound of low rhythmic repetitive music had him relaxing into the bench. When a moment later Stiles started to sing in a soft voice he relaxed even further. “ _We'll do it all, Everything, On our own_.” He took a deep breath. Releasing it slowly as the younger man’s voice slid easily into his ears. “ _We don't need, Anything, Or anyone_.”  
  
Feeling utterly relaxed, he lifted his leg to brace his right foot on the bench. “ _If I lay here, If I just lay here, Would you lie with me and just forget the world_?” With the uptick to Stiles’ voice, he looked upward, taking in the slow moving clouds passing by. “ _I don't quite know, How to say, How I feel_.” That gave him pause for some reason. It hit a little too close to home especially considering who was singing. Why would Stiles have chosen to sing this song when they were alone? Did it mean anything or was that simply wishful thinking? “ _Those three words, Are said too much, They're not enough_.”  
  
There was a part of him that wanted to move then, to turn onto his side and to look at the other man’s face. He wanted to see if there was something there to see. “ _If I lay here, If I just lay here, Would you lie with me and just forget the world_?” Instead of following through he pushed the feeling down. He was probably being ridiculous anyway. “ _Forget what we're told, Before we get too old, Show me a garden that's bursting into life_.” Despite the doubt crowding his mind, he found himself smiling anyway. Even if it didn’t mean anything, that wasn’t going to stop him from enjoying the moment. “ _Let's waste time, Chasing cars, Around our heads_.”  
  
His mind drifted again. Taking in the clouds overhead and letting himself become awash in Stiles’ voice. “ _I need your grace, To remind me, To find my own_.” The hand he had resting at his side shifted a little. He curled his fingers slightly, absentmindedly feeling the slight roughness of wood grain. “ _If I lay here, If I just lay here, Would you lie with me and just forget the world_?” It felt like that’s what he was doing. He knew that he should move. There was a feeling in him that told him so. Yet he didn’t want to. Not right now, maybe not ever. “ _Forget what we're told, Before we get too old, Show me a garden that's bursting into life._ ” Suddenly he could envision such a thing; a garden vibrant and evergreen.  
  
He thought of them there, walking hand in hand, among the lush foliage. The image shifted to them in the preserve. It wasn’t as vibrant anymore but it felt like home. Instead of images of death, he saw them in the beautiful hidden places he’d known as a child. At the thought of it, he found himself wishing they were really there. “ _All that I am, All that I ever was, Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see_.” He sat up at that, leaning on his elbow to look in Stiles’ direction. Wrapped up in the song, the other man didn’t seem to notice. He just kept playing, the look on his face one of deep feeling. “ _I don't know where, Confused about how as well, Just know that these things will never change for us at all_.”  
  
The look fell away somewhat as the faster tempo slowed down to its original pace. He didn’t fail to notice Stiles glancing briefly in his direction at the start of the last line. “ _If I lay here, If I just lay here, Would you lie with me and just forget the world_?” He watched intently as the song continued for a few more seconds. It came to an end abruptly but in a way that seemed fitting. They shared a look he really couldn’t interpret before Stiles looked away to put down the instrument. “I think I’m in the mood for a swim.” He was sent a questioning glance. The look in the other man’s eyes was downright playful. “Do you want to join me?” Normally he’d decline. As nice as it looked the water was probably ice cold.  
  
It was what he’d just heard, combined with the look in Stiles’ eyes that put to rest any debate. “Sure.” They both climbed to their feet. In a swift move, Stiles pulled off his shirt. It got tossed to the bench he’d been sitting on before he moved toward the shoreline. That was his cue to move forward as well. They’d only gotten to the edge of the water when something came to mind. He frowned even as he looked down the stretch of beach. “Where is the pack?” It was strange that he’d only just now thought to bring it up. “They’re on their way.” That didn’t seem right. Hadn’t they been here a long time? He looked back to the other man to see him wading out into the water. “Stiles, I think we should go look for them.”  
  
The suggestion had Stiles looking at him oddly. “Why? They’ll be here soon.” Any hope he had to form an argument went right out the window. Even as the words were rapidly forming in his mind, he’d been hit with a spray of water. The cool liquid hitting his chest had him jumping a little in surprise. It only increased the amusement he could see on Stiles’ face. There was a quiver to his expressive mouth as though he was barely holding back a laugh. He growled a little. “You’re going to pay for that.” At his ‘threat’ Stiles’ eyebrow ticked up slightly. The previously contained smile was now breaking out slowly. “Oh really? Come then, big guy. Show me what you’ve got. Or all you all talk?”  
  
TBC...

Additional Notes: The songs used are [Atlantic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7vJ4l-3K7gg) by Keane and [Chasing Cars](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bXxLkWsWENU) by Snow Patrol


End file.
